Jane Austen Reader’s Block: The Problem with Fanny Price

I planned to make January 2011 my month for rereading all of Jane Austen’s novels, but it’s February and I’m only halfway through.  Oops.  I can keep reading, of course, but while “Janeuary” has a certain punny ring to it, I don’t think “Februausten” is as catchy.

So why have I fallen behind?  Part of the delay is because of the blog.  Writing about everything I read and watch takes twice as much time as simply reading and watching.  But I’ve also, admittedly, hit a wall with Mansfield Park. I reread the first fifty or so pages a week ago, put the book down, and haven’t returned to it since.

To its detriment, Mansfield Park comes right after Pride and Prejudice and right before Emma in my reread.  That’s right between the Austen novel that I enjoy the most, and the Austen novel where I think her social commentary is at its most biting.  It’s at an unfortunate placement in the reread series.

It’s a shame, because the book has a lot to offer.  Jane Austen made a career out of writing about the confined claustrophobia of the Regency period…but if Regency society is a prison, then Mansfield Park is being locked in solitary.  The society of Mansfield Park is so claustrophobic that people have nothing to do but get into trouble and put on plays for the sole purpose of flirting with each other right under the noses of their betrothed.  The book is filled with hypocrites of the highest order, from the scheming Crawford siblings to Maria Bertram to the stingy, cold-hearted Mrs. Norris (fun fact: J.K. Rowling named Argus Filch’s cat after this Jane Austen character).  It points out the way beauty and money are equated with virtue, and how so many ignore sweet, kind Fanny in favor of the prettier, more social Bertram sisters.  And, to top it off, the characters seem weirdly incestuous.  Fanny and Edmund’s union feels particularly so – not because they’re first cousins, but because they’ve both had so little exposure to anyone else.  The Crawfords turn out to be corrupt, so Fanny and Edmund marry each other instead (how…romantic?), and the Crawfords themselves would be perfect for each other if there wasn’t the unfortunate matter of being brother and sister.

In other words, the character dynamics of Mansfield Park are so messed-up and confined that it shares more similarities with Wuthering Heights (another book I adore) than with other Jane Austen novels.  It’s just my cup of tea, so why the struggle to get through it?

Upon reflection, I think it’s because Fanny Price, our heroine, is kind of a wet blanket.

In a way, she makes the perfect narrator.  The book is called Mansfield Park, not Fanny, after all, and as such, the book is not actually about her but about the corrupt dynamics of everyone else that lives there.  She’s the opposite of Emma Woodhouse, who manipulates and schemes and tries to fix the world to her liking.  Fanny goes along for the ride and just watches as her cousins and their friends engage in immoral behavior.  And as a result, she falls a little flat.

I feel guilty saying this at all because I think Fanny gets a raw deal from a lot of Austen fans.  Her moralizing is a little much to handle sometimes, but at least she’s consistent and sticks to her gut instincts.  I admire her for not falling for Henry Crawford’s act and for refusing to marry him even though she’s been a pliable doormat her whole life.  She’s infinitely more likable than Edmund, the ultimate flip-flopper, whose moral objections go out the window when met with Mary Crawford’s pretty face.  Still, I often feel like the book would be improved if Mary Crawford were the protagonist.  Imagine Mansfield Park told from the point of view of an outsider, an interloping schemer who made waves in an enclosed society just for the amusement and social promotion of herself and her brother.  Instead, we have righteous, admirable, but less dynamic, Fanny.

I’m tempted to skip this book and go right onto Emma. My reread, my rules, right?  I don’t like to feel a sense of obligation when it comes to entertainment.  For example, I recently rid myself of the obligation to watch every Best Picture nominee for the Academy Awards.  I saw the list of 2011 nominees, realized that I had seen 4 out of the 10, got myself prepared to catch up…but then I thought, “You know what?  I don’t want to watch a movie about a guy cutting off his own arm, or rich white hipsters whining about social networks while sounding like characters from The West Wing, or a pretentious drama directed by the guy who did The Dark Knight since I thought that was overrated anyway, and I am done with Christian Bale (professionally).”  I definitely want to see The King’s Speech and I might check out Winter’s Bone if the mood strikes me, but I would rather see True Grit for the second time, or Black Swan for the third, or Toy Story 3 on an endless loop of animated AWESOME, or rent movies I’ve been meaning to see for years, than watch movies that the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences deemed as AWARD-WORTHY (TM) when the stupid buggers completely snubbed The Simpsons Movie in the Best Animated Feature category four years ago.

The point is, watching movies shouldn’t feel like homework, and neither should reading books.  I appreciate Mansfield Park for being a very good book, but I’m not sure I need to read it for a third time when Emma is calling out to me.

On the other hand, now I’m thinking about Alessandro Nivola and Embeth Davidtz as Henry and Mary Crawford – by far the best things about the 1999 movie adaptation – and I may have talked myself into rereading it after all.

I shall have to think on’t, I suppose.